


The Significant Other: The Will and Hannibal Edition

by house_of_lantis



Series: The Significant Other [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, M/M, Marriage, Murder Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-01-24 02:11:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21330547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_of_lantis/pseuds/house_of_lantis
Summary: After their terrible and abrupt break up, Will and Hannibal attempt to maneuver through their social circles, side step ongoing gossip, and deal with the fact that Will knows the truth of Hannibal. Through impossible odds, Will and Hannibal do find their way to each other again.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: The Significant Other [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1434163
Comments: 64
Kudos: 407





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note 1: Yeah, I’m just making it up as I go. HAHA! Enjoy all the feels as I fill in the blank of how they got from break up to make up to married. 
> 
> Author’s Note 2: Alana and Hannibal’s discussion of the psychiatric case is based on the journal article “Fulminant Onset of Valproate-Associated Hyperammonemic Encephalopathy” by Dr. Josef Baumgartner: https://ajp.psychiatryonline.org/doi/10.1176/appi.ajp.2019.18040363

**Baltimore Opera House**

**August 23 **

Hannibal Lecter entered the large main hall, nodding politely to the myriad of familiar faces, as he made his way towards the bar to collect a glass of champagne. 

“Hannibal, dear!” Mrs. Komeda called, making her way through the crowd towards him. She wore a pleased smile on her face as she reached out to take his hand. “We were wondering where you were. I haven’t seen you and Will for over three weeks! How are you?” 

“I’m well, thank you,” he said, pleasantly. “It’s good to see that you’re in high spirits.” 

She chuckled, patting his arm. “To be honest, I’ve been looking forward to the new season. Though I have to admit that ‘ _ Bluebeard’s Castle _ ’ is a very controversial selection.” 

Hannibal smiled. “I was lucky to see a performance of it in Florence many years ago. I have to admit that I have a deep connection to this particular story.” 

“You have remarkably eclectic tastes, Hannibal,” she said, looking up at him. “Is Will joining us tonight?” 

He gave a tight smile and met Mrs. Komeda’s expectant gaze. “I’m afraid that Will and I are no longer together.” 

“Oh,” she said, frowning. “I’m so sorry to hear this, Hannibal. He was such a lovely young man; a perfect companion for you.” 

He nodded, taking a sip of his champagne, looking at the golden liquid contemplatively. “I couldn’t agree more.” 

“Oh.  _ Ohhhh _ ,” she murmured, meaningfully. Her expression turning to one of sympathy. “I see. Perhaps you could win him back. Allow him to have a little time and distance and maybe his heart will return to you.” 

Hannibal gave a small grin, meeting her gaze. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t need to create an imitation of emotion. “Only time can tell.” 

Mrs. Komeda slipped her small hand into the crook of his elbow, taking him around the room. “Now, Hannibal, all relationships go through their difficulties. I have great faith that you know your own mind and heart, but I can’t believe that whatever happened between you and Will can’t be resolved. You may need to set aside your pride and reach out to him first.” 

He was pleased by her comments, believing that she was being genuine. In the past few weeks since that awful night Will left him, he expected Jack Crawford and the FBI to knock down his doors and arrest him. Hannibal had already contacted his legion of lawyers and his Albanian accountant, moving funds outside of the country into discreet and untraceable accounts, in case Hannibal would need to leave the country under an assumed name. 

But Will kept his silence and Hannibal contemplated a number of scenarios where he could discredit Will’s sanity and reputation, tucking him away safely until he could help Will see reason, and spirit him away to one of his residences abroad where he could use a number of psychotherapeutic drugs to keep Will close to him. There were many times when Hannibal had visited Will’s house in the middle of the night, watching him from the shadows of the surrounding woods as Will wandered inside his house, listless and distraught, drinking heavily and passing out in his armchair. The only reason Hannibal hadn’t taken  _ permanent  _ steps against Will was seeing the other man’s sorrow, his loneliness, and his regret. 

Hannibal smiled, charmingly, at Mrs. Komeda. “I appreciate your candor. It was my pride that chased him away. I have some ideas for how I could make amends with Will and see if our affection for each other surpasses whatever difficulty there was between us.” 

“I’m very glad to hear it,” she said, chuckling delightedly. “Since the beginning of our friendship, I’ve always wanted you to find happiness with someone special, and I hope it is Will. Just remember to toast me at your wedding.” 

Hannibal laughed softly, patting her hand. “I won’t forget. I promise.” 

*** 

**FBI Academy **

**August 26 **

Will was certain that a few of his students would be submitting complaints to the Dean’s Office. His behavior the last few weeks, even by his own honest judgment, was unfairly critical - bordering on hostile - to his students. As he shut off the projector and packed up his laptop and notebook into his leather messenger bag, none of the students lingered behind trying to chat with him. The lecture hall emptied out in just a few seconds, leaving Will alone to stew in his misery. 

“Damn, you look like the walking dead, Graham,” Beverly said, leaning against the doorway to the classroom. 

Jimmy frowned, his wizened face crinkling. “I’ve heard through the faculty grapevine that your students think you’re a douchebag.” 

Will pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder and sighed, staring at the two of them. “What do you want?” 

“We want you to stop acting like a total asshole,” Beverly told him, grabbing his arm and tugging him down the hallway. “So Jimmy, Brian and I are going to take you out for drinks and talk about what the hell kind of bug has crawled up your ass.” 

She was strong due to years of physical training, and Will knew that if he tried to pull away, there was a fair chance that Beverly would put him into a headlock and subdue him, and force him to walk down the hallway like a common perp. Jimmy gave him a knowing look, raising his eyebrows, daring Will to try to run. 

“Where are we going?” Will said, giving in, not even gracefully. 

“Sam’s,” she said, the corner of her mouth ticking up with a smirk. “Brian’s holding our usual table and he’s already got the first three rounds set up.” 

*** 

**Sam’s Inn**

**223 Potomac Avenue**

**Quantico, Virginia **

“ — and his stupid neckties!” Will said, slurring. “He matches his stupid neckties to his pocket squares. Who wears a pocket square? And did you know that he always ties his stupid neckties into a Windsor knot? Like a normal knot isn’t good enough for the likes of him!” 

Beverly smiled, exchanging amused glances with Brian. “Tell us more.” 

“Hah! I got stories! He has pretentious three piece suits! His vests matches everything. His closet is like a whole room in his house. It’s wall to wall suits! Everything is color coded. And all that plaid! Even his dress shirts have some plaid in it, but you can’t see it unless you get really close to look at the patterns! You have to wonder what he’s hiding with all that plaid!” Will said, taking the glass from Brian and throwing it back with one shot. The burn of the whiskey slid down his throat and he gagged slightly, swallowing it back down. 

“Jesus, you’re a sloppy drunk, Graham,” Brian said, staring at him in disbelief. 

Will snorted, rolling his eyes at Brian. “You’re not pretty, Zeller.” 

“Fuck you I’m pretty enough, you asshole,” he said, leaning against Jimmy. “Aren’t I, Jimmy? I’m pretty enough.” 

Beverly snorted, reaching over to run her fingers through Brian’s thick hair. “I think you’re pretty. Pretty pretty pretty. Right Jimmy!” 

“Pretty,” Jimmy mumbled, automatically. 

“But not prettier than me!” Will said, triumphantly. 

Brian made a face at him. “Asshole.” 

“No one’s prettier than you, Will, not even me,” Beverly said, chortling. 

Will laughed, slouching in his chair, looking at the three of them. Jimmy had his eyes closed and looked like he had already passed out. Beverly’s eyes were glazed over, her cheeks flushed red, but she switched to water an hour ago so she was probably sobering up. Brian was their designated driver and was entirely sober. 

He could tell them stories about Hannibal Lecter, the most hilarious one being that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper! How about them bones! He was dating a serial killer, just like Beverly said he would. 

“This is all your fault, Bev,” he groused, taking a deep breath. 

“How is this my fault!” She said, laughing uproariously. 

“Getting me drunk and forcing me to talk about him,” Will said, feeling his throat tighten with emotion. “He lied to me. The whole time. Didn’t tell me the truth, didn’t tell me anything. He was just...just toying with me, winding me up.” 

“Okay, I can’t take anymore of this. I think it’s time to take you all home,” Brian said, getting up and walking to the bar to pay their bill. 

Brian came back to the table and helped Jimmy to his feet, pulling Jimmy’s arm around his neck and basically half carrying the older man out of the bar. Beverly took Will’s arm and between the two of them, they managed to stagger through the bar and out the door, following Brian towards his car in the parking lot. 

Jimmy was seatbelted into the front passenger seat, snoring loudly with his head leaning off the side of the seat. Brian pulled up to Beverly’s apartment complex and parked the car, helping the giggling woman out of the backseat. 

“I don’t need an escort to my front door!” She protested, laughing as Brian took her arm, helping her inside. 

“Just,  _ shhhh _ ! Bev! Keep it down and get inside. Do you want your neighbors to call the cops?” 

“But we’re FBI! FBI...Frugality! Bureaucracy! Inclusivity!” 

“Not even close, Bev,” Brian said, dryly. 

Will watched as Brian walked with Beverly into the building, the two of the disappearing inside, and after a few minutes, he came back to the car. 

“Jimmy! Wake up!” Brian said, patting the older man on his chest. “Almost home!” 

“Home,” Jimmy slurred, snorting. 

Will laughed, leaning his face against the cool glass. “I can’t believe this.” 

Brian parked the car outside Jimmy’s townhouse and gently tapped Jimmy’s cheek with his hand, cooing at the older man to open his eyes. 

“Where are we?” Jimmy said, his voice gruff and croaky. 

“You’re house.” 

Jimmy giggled. “ _ Ohhhh _ , you coming in to put me to bed, sweetheart?” 

Will inhaled sharply, sitting up and looking at the two of them, his eyes widening in surprise. Brian rolled his eyes, a small smile on his lips, as he pulled Jimmy to his feet and nearly carried him to the front door. Will thought it was kind of cute...and not unexpected. He knew that Brian and Jimmy were close, but he wasn’t interested enough in either of them to look any deeper at their relationship. But as Brian carried Jimmy up the steps to the front door and then into the house, lights turning on and the sound of Jimmy’s laughter, Will felt that pang of loneliness now more than ever. 

He missed that  **son of a bitch** . 

Will didn’t know how long it was but when he looked out the window, he realized that they were nearing his house. 

“Shit, I need to take my dogs out,” Will said, scrambling out of the backseat and dragging his messenger bag out with him. 

Brian walked with him to the front porch, holding the storm door open as Will attempted to use his keys to unlock the front door. The dogs were barking and whimpering inside and Will felt incredibly guilty for having forgotten about them. 

“Sorry, buddies, sorry,” Will said, petting each one as they licked and danced around him. “Go outside, everyone out! Go potty!” 

The dogs ran outside, finding their own special patch of grass, and Will sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. Brian was looking around at Will’s house, dark eyes taking everything in and trying to gauge who Will Graham was in his eyes. 

“Hey, thanks for tonight,” Will said, trying to offer a tired smile. 

Brian gave him a crooked smile. “You look like shit, Will. Come on, I’ll help you with the dogs before I go.” 

Will motioned for Brian to follow him into the back kitchen, turning on the lights as he went. The water bowls needed to be refilled with fresh water, and Will opened the large plastic container holding the dry dog food, pouring a large amount into several dog bowls. 

“I think I’m depressed,” he finally said, as Brian was washing the water bowls at the sink. 

“Yeah, you might want to see a professional — and not Lecter, by the way.” 

“I miss the sex. After going without sex for a few years and then having sex with Hannibal whenever I wanted it, like every day, I haven’t been able to shut off my body. I’m constantly horny. I think about going to a bar and picking someone up and getting laid, but then it feels like I’m cheating on him and I don’t know what to do with that. You ever feel like that?” 

Brian blinked and turned to look at Will. “Um, okay...I like you, Graham, and yeah, you’re kind of hot, but I’m not into you.” 

Will stared at him for a long moment and then started laughing. “Oh fuck! You thought I was…” He laughed again, bending over to brace his hands on his knees, eyes tearing up as he looked at Brian. 

“Fuck you, Graham,” Brian said, shaking his head but he was smiling, too. 

He stopped laughing because it felt like he wanted to start crying and maybe even throwing up. He took a deep breath and stood up slowly, feeling his vision dip a little. 

“Thanks for getting me home,” Will said, smiling at Brian. 

Brian finished setting all the water bowls on the floor and wiped his hands clean on a nearby kitchen towel. “You sure you’ll be okay?” 

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “I’ll let the dogs in and then crash. I’ll be okay.” 

Brian looked him over with his keen eyes and then nodded. “Okay, drink some water and take some painkiller before you go to bed. You’re going to be in for a rough morning.” 

Will laughed, walking him through the house to the front door. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Drive safe.” 

“Goodnight, Graham.” 

“Night.” 

Will stood on the front porch and watched as Brian pulled his car off the driveway, heading back to the road. He held up his hand and then stepped back into the house, leaving the front door open to keep an eye on the dogs. 

He reached into his pocket for his phone, checking to see if he received any messages. Aside from a text message from Alana asking if he wanted to meet for lunch sometime, there was nothing, nothing from Hannibal. Will sighed, sitting in his favorite armchair, and scrolled through his favorites contact list for Hannibal’s contact information. He had taken a candid photograph of Hannibal of him working in his kitchen, preparing one of his fancy dinners, and added it to Hannibal’s contact profile in his phone. Will stared at it for a long moment, looking at the three telephone numbers listed. The main one was for his cell; the second one for the house; and the third was his office. 

Will was just drunk enough to know that he was making a stupid mistake, but he didn’t care. He pressed the call button for Hannibal’s office number, knowing that it would be going to his office answering machine. 

“You have reached the office of Dr. Hannibal Lecter. I am unable to take your call at the time. Please leave me a detailed message and I shall return your call at my earliest availability. Thank you.” 

Beep. 

“You’re a real son of a bitch, you know that,” Will said, breathing heavily. “Why did you do this to me? To us? We had something good, right? And you ruined it. You fucking ruined it, Hannibal. And now I’m drunk and stupid and I’m calling your stupid office number because I know you’ll listen to this message. Because I can’t talk to you! I want to talk to you but I can’t! You’ll just lie to me and mess with my mind. And I really thought...I thought we really had something, you know? That’s why you’re a son of a bitch. I mean, nothing against your mother, but you’re an asshole, Hannibal. And I really miss you…I miss you  **so** much...” 

He ended the call before he started drunk crying. It was humiliating enough that he missed Hannibal and told him so, but to actually start crying. He could imagine the dark glee on Hannibal’s handsome face as he listened to Will’s message. How much he would enjoy Will’s conflicted heart and mind. He dropped the phone on his stomach and closed his eyes. He’d let the dogs inside in just a minute, he just needed to close his eyes for a second. 

*** 

Will woke up abruptly, in a panic, kicking the blankets off his feet as he looked around the living room. The dogs were safely inside, sleeping in their beds, and Will was still dressed but his shoes were off and there was a blanket covering him. He frowned, wondering when he had gotten up to bring the dogs inside? He knew that he had passed out at some point...he was drunk but not so blackout drunk that he couldn’t remember anything. 

He stared at the glass of water and the bottle of painkiller on the small side table near the armchair. 

The front door was closed and the small lamp by his desk was on, but all the other lights in the house were turned off. He frowned, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise, and he rubbed the weird feeling from his neck and his face, listening to the sounds of his house. He looked at his wristwatch and saw that it was close to four in the morning. He tugged up the blanket closer around him, the feeling of unease deepening as he stared at the front door. He knew it was probably just a trick of his mind or wishful thinking, but he could’ve sworn he smelled Hannibal’s cologne. 

*** 

**Hannibal Lecter’s House **

**August 29 **

“ — fascinating case of a 26-year old man who was admitted into the early psychosis inpatient unit in an acute manic state showing signs of disinhibition, impulsivity, overfamiliarity, restlessness, flights of fancy, delusions of grandeur, and paranoid delusions associated with auditory and visual hallucinations,” Alana said, her eyes bright with curiosity. 

Hannibal chewed slowly, thoughtfully, trying to give Alana his attention on a patient case she was consulting on at GWU Hospital, but his thoughts kept slipping towards Will. He knew it was rude to ignore Alana, to let his mind wander through his memory palace, following the Will of his memories as he walked slowly through the halls, smiling at Hannibal over his shoulder, leading him into the sunlit chambers that Will now owned. 

“His PANSS score was 103, Hannibal,” she said, excitedly. 

“Did the patient exhibit any previous manic states prior to the admittance?” 

She nodded, taking a small bite of her rabbit casserole. “Two years prior, but he didn’t have any depressive episodes.” 

Hannibal had to agree that the case was certainly interesting. “Was the patient offered any pharmacotherapy?” 

“The usual - valproic acid, risperidone, and lorazepam. Dosages were increased over a period of seven days, but there was no change to his manic symptoms. But the patient started exhibiting unusual reactions. The more the levels of valproic acid and risperidone moved into therapeutic levels, the patient began to lose motor function and complained of daytime sedation.” 

“The valproic acid may have raised his ammonia levels,” he said, considering his former medical knowledge. “It would cause valproic acid-associated hyperammonemic encephalopathy.” 

Alana stared at him and the corners of her lips quirked into a smile of disbelief. “How did you make that determination just based on what I told you?” 

Hannibal smiled, but there was no pride in it. “Am I correct?” 

“Yes!” She said, chuckling softly. She picked up her glass of home brewed beer and took a long sip, gazing at him. “That’s amazing.” 

“My advantage is that I spent a number of years as a medical doctor,” he said, simply. “Crossing the medical discipline with psychiatric research has always served me well.” 

“You were my medical resident advisor at Hopkins and I still didn’t make that connection until I read the patient’s entire file,” she said, shaking her head. “You know, Will makes great leaps of logic. You have that in common with him.” 

Hannibal glanced at her, wondering where she was going with this. “Will has a beautiful mind.” 

“I’ve been trying to find the right lead in to ask you...but how are things with Will?” 

“Have you spoken with him?” 

“Not recently,” she said, shaking her head and smiling. “I’ve texted him a few times to see if he wanted to meet for lunch, but I haven’t heard back from him. I imagine that he’s been too busy with you.” 

“Will would never neglect his friends because he was involved with someone,” Hannibal said, softly. “I have not spoken to Will for over a month.” 

Alana blinked at him, her mouth parting slightly. “Oh Hannibal...I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” 

Hannibal hummed his agreement, sipping his wine. 

She frowned slightly, looking up to meet his gaze. “But why? You and Will were so happy together. I was certain that you two would be heading towards something long term, if not permanent.” 

“It is unfortunate that Will and I were not in the same place in terms of our commitment to each other,” he said, neutrally. 

“I don’t understand — “ 

“Perhaps it’s not something for you to understand,” he said, trying to be kind. “Will and I understand, and isn’t that what matters in this case?” 

She looked like she wanted to pursue it, given the closeness of their own friendship, but she knew him well enough to know to leave it alone. Hannibal was glad; he would not like to use her moment of rudeness against her. 

*** 

**Will Graham’s House **

**September 8 **

Will stepped out of his house, letting the dogs out, when he saw Alana walking up towards the front porch. 

“I didn’t hear you drive up.” 

She laughed, motioning to her small car. “Hybrid. It’s perfect for stalking.” 

“Are you stalking me?” He said, good-naturedly. He realized that he was dressed only in his boxer shorts and tee shirt. “I should put on some clothes.” 

Alana gave him an amused look. “Sure, if you want.” 

“Give me a minute and I’ll make you some coffee,” he said, waving her towards the house. 

He walked inside quickly and reached for his jeans, pulling them on with his back to the door. Alana came into the house, looking around, giving him privacy. 

“Sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting anyone,” he said, leading her into the kitchen. He found a clean mug for her and poured coffee into his mug and hers. “I’m glad you’re here, but I suspect that this isn’t just a friendly visit.” 

“I had dinner with Hannibal the other night,” she said, as he handed her the coffee mug. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He shrugged, leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee. “You know I’m not good at talking about that kind of stuff.” 

“You seemed happy. Stable,” she said, walking towards him and leaned her hip against the counter, gazing at him sympathetically. “It’s hard to believe that you and Hannibal would just break up without even trying.” 

Will looked into his coffee cup and snorted. “Maybe I shouldn’t have dated a psychiatrist.” 

“I can’t believe that Hannibal would cross that line with you.” 

He gave her a sardonic look. “That was the least of our problems.” 

Alana sighed and nodded, giving him a small smile. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that things ended between you two.” 

Will laughed, nodding. “Since we’re on the subject, what about you? You don’t date.” 

“You’re assuming that I don’t date,” she said, chuckling. 

He looked at her curiously. “Do you?” 

“No,” she said, honestly. “It doesn’t feel like it’s something I do. It’s like dating is for other people.” 

Will licked his lips. “It’s hard to date when you notice everything they do and have a good idea why they do it.” 

“Worse than actually dating a psychiatrist is being the psychiatrist and dating.” 

“Maybe you’re not dating the right people,” he said, looking at her softly. He leaned towards her and pressed a kiss on her lips. He started to pull away, an apology on his lips, when she placed her hand on his cheek and kissed him in what felt like a genuine moment of careless passion. He made a little moan, enjoying it for just a split second, until he felt the chill of anxiety rush down his spine and he pulled away abruptly. 

“I’m confused,” she said, her eyebrows furrowing as she stared at him. 

Will stepped away, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“No, we really shouldn’t have done that,” she said, blinking quickly. 

He stared into his coffee cup, trying to find the answers for why he would do such a thing. “I’m not good for you. I’m a mess.” 

Alana let out a sigh and nodded, looking away. “We wouldn’t work anyway. I’d never be able to stop trying to analyze you. You’re right, it’s hard when you notice everything the other person does and know why they do it. I won’t be a rebound for Hannibal.” 

“I’d never disrespect you like that, Alana,” he said, turning to look at her. 

He didn’t know if she believed him or not, but it was the most honest he could be with her without telling her the whole truth. 

“I better go,” she said, setting her coffee cup on the counter. “Thank you for the coffee.” 

“I’m sorry for — “ he paused, not really knowing the best way to express it. Sorry for kissing her, sorry for taking advantage, sorry for putting her in this position. “ — just sorry for everything.” 

“Me, too,” she said, giving him a small smile. “We can just chalk it up to a lapse in good judgment and move on from it.” 

Will curled his lips into his mouth and nodded. “Sure. Let me walk you out.” 

He followed her out the front door to the porch, whistling for his dogs as Alana walked towards her small blue car. She waved to him with a smile and got in. Will nodded to her, watching as she reversed the car carefully off his driveway. He stood there for a long moment until her car was far down the street, putting distance between them. 

**Hannibal Lecter’s House **

Will rang the doorbell and stood impatiently outside, and in a moment of impulsivity, he turned the doorknob to the front door and found it open, stepping inside. He tossed his coat and bag on the bench in the foyer of the house as Hannibal walked towards him, looking very surprised to see him. 

“I kissed Alana Bloom,” Will said, looking at Hannibal’s face for his reaction. 

Hannibal frowned, staring at the way Will just walked into his house and tossed his belongings on the bench, and then met Will’s eyes. “And did you feel this was important enough to have to drive all the way up to Baltimore to throw it in my face?” 

Will smirked and walked through the foyer into the dining room, stopping when he saw a beautiful blonde woman sitting at the table, sipping her white wine. 

“Oh, sorry, am I interrupting your romantic date?” Will said, tartly. 

“Not at all,” the woman said, smiling sharply at him. “You must be Will Graham. I’ve heard a great deal about you.” 

Hannibal stepped into the dining room and turned to glare at Will. “This is Dr. Bedelia du Maurier, my colleague and friend, and you are being quite rude to my guest, Will.” 

“Perhaps I should leave,” Bedelia said, rising from the chair gracefully. “It looks like you have your hands full, Hannibal.” 

“Yes, I think that’s for the best,” Will said, walking into the kitchen. 

“My apologies, Bedelia,” Hannibal said, gently. “Shall I wrap up dessert to take with you?” 

Will rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 

“No, thank you, Hannibal,” she said, chuckling lowly. “I think I will make a hasty departure and leave you to your other guest. Good night, Hannibal.” 

“Let me walk you to the door, Bedelia.” 

Will groaned, his lips pursed in a moue of displeasure. Of course, Hannibal Lecter, always playing the role of a charming host. He turned around when he heard Hannibal’s footsteps hurrying into the kitchen. 

“What is the meaning of this, Will,” Hannibal demanded, staring at Will with a furious expression on his face. 

“Guess it doesn’t take long for the great Hannibal Lecter to get back on the horse,” he said, derisively. “Did you enjoy your romantic dinner with your old girlfriend?” 

“Bedelia and I have never had an intimate relationship. She’s my psychiatrist and my friend,” Hannibal said, defensively. “Why on earth would you even presume to think such a thing!” 

“How do you think I should think if I come over to your house and find you with her!” He gave Hannibal an ugly smile. “Tell me, Hannibal, does she know what protein you serve her? Do you delight in watching her put human flesh in her mouth?” 

Hannibal’s nostrils flared as he stared at Will. “Let’s discuss the real reason why you’re even here. What did you intend to do by telling me that you had kissed Alana? Did you intend to anger me? Because if that was your intention, then you have earned my anger.” 

Will watched as Hannibal’s eyes moved to the knife block sitting on the counter. 

“And what’re you going to do? Kill me?” 

Hannibal took three large steps towards Will, one hand grabbing Will’s hair, the other curling behind his back. “I should kill you and be done with you and maybe I’ll find some semblance of peace in my own mind.” 

Will kissed him, biting hard at his bottom lip, getting in the first strike. Hannibal growled and jerked Will’s head back by the hair, kissing him roughly and deeply, tongue delving into Will’s mouth. 

“Lying bastard!” Will hissed, curling his arm behind Hannibal’s neck and pulling him even closer. 

Hannibal slipped his hand down the front of Will’s pants, curling around his already hard cock, stroking him dry. Will moaned, grabbing the collar of his dress shirt as he pressed his mouth against Hannibal’s neck, sucking and biting at his skin. They fell against the counter, knocking against the dishware, the clatter of falling utensils shockingly loud as they moaned and breathed against each other. 

Will gasped as Hannibal ran his thumb over the head of his cock, using the pre-come to lubricate his strong hold, stroking him just under the head where Will was most sensitive. He closed his eyes as he came, panting breathlessly, feeling the wetness cover Hannibal’s hand and smearing against his skin and his boxers. He watched as Hannibal pulled his hand from his pants, licking the come off his skin as he stared at Will. It was sexy and dirty and Will loved it. 

Hannibal knocked him to his knees, still gripping his hair, as he undid the front of his dress slacks to pull out his own hard cock. Will opened his mouth as Hannibal jerked him closer, pressing his cock into Will’s mouth without preamble, thrusting quickly as Will tried to keep up with Hannibal’s erratic thrusts, licking and sucking the head, nearly gagging when Hannibal pushed too far into his mouth. Hannibal groaned, harshly, as he came, filling Will’s mouth with the taste of his bitter come. 

Will dragged Hannibal down to the floor and spat the come on the kitchen floor, grabbing for Hannibal’s face to kiss his mouth, thrusting his tongue inside Hannibal’s mouth and scraping the remaining come against Hannibal’s sharp canines. 

They fell against the cabinets, sliding to the floor until they were sitting sideways, legs sprawled and tangled together. Will and Hannibal stared at each other, both of them panting, the anger still thrumming between them, electric and unforgiving. 

“I’m trying really hard to reconcile what I know about you,” Will hissed at him, catching his breath. 

“Say it,” Hannibal demanded, narrowing his eyes. 

“Ripper!” 

Will watched as Hannibal’s lips curved into a look of pride, brown eyes darkening with pure sadistic pride. 

“My compassion for you is inconvenient,” Hannibal said, warningly. “You enjoy pushing me as much as I enjoy pushing you.” 

Will sneered at him. “One of these days, we’re going to end up pushing each other over a cliff.” 

Hannibal stared at him for a long moment and then chuckled darkly. “Perhaps...or we could make that leap of faith together.” 

He pulled away from Hannibal and looked at the state that they were both in. He covered his face with his hands and rubbed at his eyes, shaking his head. 

“I can’t, Hannibal,” he said, emotionally. “I can’t be whatever it is that you want me to be.” 

“I only want you to be what you have the potential to be,” Hannibal said, sitting back against the cabinets and taking a deep breath. “Nothing more, nothing less.” 

Will sighed, sitting back against the cabinets beside Hannibal. “We’re going to end up killing each other.” 

“It doesn’t have to end that way. Stay with me, let me help you see what I see in you,” he said, reaching out to gently take Will’s hand. “I’ve given you a rare gift, something I have never shared with a _ living  _ being. You alone see me and know me for who and what I am. Neither of us ever need to be alone again.” 

“And what happens if I don’t want to see any of it?” Will said, staring blankly out at the kitchen. Hannibal remained silent, and Will understood its meaning. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for barging in on you. I need to leave.” 

He pulled his hand from Hannibal, getting to his feet. Hannibal remained sitting on the kitchen floor, his eyes closed. For a moment, Will didn’t think that Hannibal would’ve allowed him to leave. A part of him was disappointed that Hannibal wouldn’t make him stay. He didn’t press his luck any further, hurrying out of the kitchen and to the foyer, gathering his things and leaving as quickly as he could. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Okay, I seriously don’t know what happened, but this story has turned into the cheesiest, romantic Hannigram fic I’ve ever written. OMG. So if you’re into feelings and romance without any pain or angst, then this chapter is for you. Also, I’m adding one more chapter as an epilogue to this series. Enjoy! LOL!

**Behavioral Analysis Unit, Headquarters**

**Quantico, VA**

**September 15 **

Will sat in Jack’s office as he flipped through the thick patient file of Dr. Abel Gideon, who had recently escaped from the Baltimore State Hospital of the Criminally Insane, and killed at least seven people. 

“Dr. Gideon is a psychopath and psychopaths are narcissists,” Alana said, glaring at Dr. Frederick Chilton, the director of the state hospital. “He doesn’t doubt who he is because you appealed to his narcissism and convinced him that he was the Chesapeake Ripper.” 

Will watched as Chilton flushed, realizing that he was probably in some trouble. Alana Bloom was a brilliant psychiatrist herself and it was pretty obvious that she wasn’t impressed by Chilton. 

“You’re not the first psychiatrist to be accused by a patient of making them kill,” Will said, smirking. “You poke around in a psychopath’s mind, you’re going to get poked back.” 

If anyone knew that, Will certainly did. It was why he purposefully kept himself out of field work, and he was only in this meeting because Alana had asked him to review Abel Gideon’s case files. He wanted to say no, but he felt he owed it to her to help, especially with how things ended between them the last time they saw each other. 

“Well, Dr. Gideon was a difficult case. I thought that psychic driving was effective in breaking down the walls to his personality in order to get to the heart of the matter,” Chilton said, glaring at Will. 

“It’s obvious that Gideon didn’t wake up one day crazy one day and killed his wife and kids and her parents,” Will said, leaning in the chair. “He went crazy  **because** he killed his wife in a crime of passion, and then the rest of the family because they were just there.” 

Chilton stared at him, his curiosity turning into something ugly. Will could see it in Chilton’s eyes, greedily looking for an opening to poke at Will’s mind. “How did you even deduce that just from his files?” 

Will shrugged, looking at Gideon’s file again. After he had escaped, he had made his way to Dr. Paul Carruthers’s office and left behind a gruesome Columbian Necktie, cutting the doctor’s throat and pulling out the entire tongue through the wound. 

“Psychic driving is the unethical use of force and manipulation, Frederick, and if you use force and manipulation, the patient will only surrender temporarily — but in Dr. Gideon’s case, his mind broke completely and now he truly believes he’s the Chesapeake Ripper,” Alana said, chidingly. 

Chilton gave her a derisive look. “I thank you not to lecture me, Dr. Bloom, on the techniques I use on my patients. And need I remind everyone in this room that Dr. Gideon gave me his informed consent to treat him. He told me that he was grateful for my help understanding who he is.” 

Will held up the crime scene photos of the prison transport vehicle and the organs of the victims hanging on the nearby branches. “Dr. Gideon isn’t the Chesapeake Ripper. If he were, he wouldn’t have left the organs behind.” 

Because Hannibal was the Ripper and the organs would’ve been served for dinner! 

“However, he may have thought that while he was under your care, Dr. Chilton.” 

Will had to hide his grin as Chilton turned red in the face, turning towards Will. 

“Gentlemen!” Jack said, his voice ending any further discussion. 

“Why did Dr. Gideon go after Dr. Carruthers?” Will said, looking at Jack. 

“He wrote an article for  _ The Journal of Criminal Psychology _ describing Dr. Gideon as a pathological narcissist who suffers from psychotic episodes,” Jack said, giving Will a look. 

He flipped through the next series of photographs, holding up another picture of a man with the same kind of wound as Dr. Carruthers. 

“That’s Dr. Carson Nahn. He’s the Psychiatric Attending at Western General. He interviewed Abel Gideon for the same psychopathy survey I participated in two years ago,” Alana told him, frowning slightly. 

Will nodded. “Aside from Alana and Chilton, is there a list of all the psychiatrists who have evaluated Dr. Gideon?” 

Chilton reached into his inner suit pocket, pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to Will. He scanned the dozen names until he saw one that was familiar. 

“Hannibal’s on this list,” he said, reaching for his cellphone and pulling it out, touching the speed dial app for Hannibal’s cellphone. It rang five times and then went to his voicemail. “Hannibal, it’s me. I need you to get in your car and start driving to the nearest police station and get inside. We believe that Dr. Abel Gideon is killing all of the psychiatrists that interviewed him. Get to safety and call me back, Hannibal.” 

He got to his feet and picked up his messenger bag, heading for the door. “Get on the phone and start calling all of the people on that list. Find them and get them into protective custody, Jack.” 

“Where are you going?” Jack called, getting to his feet, his phone in his hand. 

“I’m going to find Hannibal.” 

**Hannibal Lecter’s Office**

**687 Bayshore Avenue, Suite 200 **

**Baltimore, Maryland**

Will was certain that he broke the speed limit on his drive north to Baltimore. He parked his vehicle in front of the building, looking up at the second floor windows. The lights were still on and Will ran up the front steps of the building, opening the door quietly and shutting it behind him without letting the lock engage. 

He passed the elevator and crept up the side staircase to the second floor, staying alert as he made his way to the small outer office where Hannibal’s patients used as a private exit. He tested the doorknob and turned it slowly, holding his breath when the door opened. He looked through the crack, seeing the light from inside Hannibal’s office under the inner door. 

A part of him hoped that Hannibal was just having a late night in his office; that he had simply ignored Will’s five calls as he drove up to Baltimore. If all he did was make an ass out of himself, showing up at Hannibal’s office in a panicked state, then he wouldn’t care because that meant Hannibal was safe from Abel Gideon. 

He pressed his ear against the door, hand on the doorknob. He could hear a muffled voice, but he couldn’t tell if it was Hannibal speaking or another person or the radio. Hannibal wasn’t a talk radio kind of guy, preferring to play chamber music. He could be meeting with a patient after hours. Will didn’t care about any of that and Hannibal could be perturbed with him for barging in on him. 

Will twisted the doorknob, opening the door slightly and looking inside. He couldn’t see anything at this angle, trying to look into the room. 

“Hello,” Abel Gideon said, smiling at Will. He held a gun in his hand, waving it for Will to come inside. “And who are you?” 

Will gritted his teeth and opened the door, stepping inside slowly with his hands raised away from his body. “I’m Will Graham.” 

“Ahhhh, the Will Graham who has made six calls to Dr. Lecter,” Gideon said, motioning Will further into the room. “Stay right there, Mr. Graham, you wouldn’t want me to hurt Dr. Lecter, would you?” 

Will saw that Hannibal was laying on his side on the lounge chaise, his hands tied behind his back. He leaned his head to the side and saw that the back of Hannibal’s suit jacket was soaked in blood, a dark rust color blooming over the brown plaid fabric. Will was furious; he had never felt such anger before. 

“He’s already been hurt.” 

Gideon chuckled. “Yes, well, I did have to subdue Dr. Lecter first. He’s a feisty one.”

“Is he still alive, Dr. Gideon?” 

“For now.” 

“May I check on him?” Will said, hoping that he could move closer to Hannibal, make sure that he was still alive and breathing, maybe loosen the silk necktie that was knotted around his wrists, Hannibal’s hands a dark red. 

Gideon gave him a knowing smile. “You must be the heroic boyfriend come to save the good doctor.” He waved the gun at Will, motioning him towards Hannibal as he took a few steps away. “Go ahead and check on your boyfriend, but no funny stuff. I have special plans for Dr. Lecter.” 

Will stepped closer to Hannibal and the first thing he did was press his fingers against Hannibal’s neck, feeling for his pulse. It was slow, but it was still there. Hannibal’s eyes were closed and his breathing shallow and pained. Will pulled off his own jacket and covered Hannibal with it, pressing his hands against the wounds. The bullet had entered on his right side and exited out of his back. Will knew that a through-and-through wasn’t ideal; Hannibal could die from internal hemorrhaging, blood loss, and shock. 

“That’s enough now,” Gideon said, staring at Will. “On your feet.” 

Will looked at Abel Gideon and cocked his head. “I know what you’re trying to do, Abel.” 

Gideon smiled, charmingly. “I’ve spent the last few years of my time under Dr. Chilton’s marvelous care, being poked and prodded by people who claimed to know who I was and what I did. What keen insight do you bring to the table, Mr. Graham?” 

“You’re not the Chesapeake Ripper, Abel,” Will said, smiling at him. 

“No, I am not the Chesapeake Ripper.” 

“Because he is,” Will said, dropping his eyes to Hannibal. 

Gideon blinked and stared down at Hannibal. It was the moment that Will needed, for Gideon to be distracted. He moved quickly, grabbing Gideon’s wrist and twisting it, forcing him to drop the gun. Will kicked it away and got a sharp elbow to his side, Gideon snarling as his hands grabbed for Will’s throat. 

Will growled as he stared at Gideon, hitting him in the face and trying to find an advantage to knock Gideon down to the ground. Gideon wasn’t a fighter, but he was stout and strong, and he was just as determined to take Will down. 

They fell over the leather chairs and rolled across the hardwood floor, trying to gain the upper hand. Gideon’s hands squeezed around Will’s throat and Will headbutted him, breaking skin over the bridge of his nose. He kicked Gideon in the groin, who moaned in pain and began to crawl away. Will saw that Gideon was going for the gun and he scrambled up, rushing towards him. Gideon picked up the gun and turned to shoot Will, but Will knocked his arms up, the bullet hitting the ceiling instead. 

Gideon smacked Will in the face with the weapon, and then smacked him again. Filled with anger and adrenaline, Will didn’t feel the pain of his cheekbone cracking or the blood flowing down the side of his face. He wrestled Gideon for the gun, falling on his back. 

And from the corner of his eye, he saw Hannibal’s sock clad feet as they walked silently across the room towards them. A scalpel was suddenly in Will’s hand and he thrusted it into Gideon’s belly, cutting him open vertically. Gideon screamed, dropping the gun, staring down at Will in disbelief and horror, his hands trying to keep his guts from spilling out. Blood and viscera poured down on Will, covering him in a deluge. Will stared past him to see a pair of strong hands wrapped around Gideon’s neck and a quick twist ending the struggle. Will panted as he stared up at Hannibal, pushing Gideon’s lifeless body off of him. 

“Will,” Hannibal said, his voice low. 

Will dropped the bloody scalpel and held out his hand, getting to his knees. Hannibal sank down on the floor and Will held him close, both of them bloody and wounded. Will kissed him, desperate and scared, smearing Hannibal’s face with his blood and with Gideon’s blood. There was so much blood everywhere. 

“I have never seen you so beautiful, Will,” Hannibal said, holding onto him, the corners of his eyes crinkling in joy. 

“Stay with me. Hey, Hannibal, stay with me, listen to my voice,” Will said, watching as Hannibal’s eyes started to droop, his face pale. Will set him down on the floor, taking his phone out of his pocket. 

“This is Will Graham, FBI. I need ERT at 687 Bayshore Avenue, on the second floor. I need an ambulance right now, GSW, Causasian, male, 40s, it’s a through-and-through through his right abdomen. He’s lost a lot of blood and he’s unconscious. Contact Jack Crawford, Director of the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI, this is a code 4-alpha-lima-5.” 

He knew that emergency services would be sent out to him immediately, especially on a code 4AL5. Will grabbed for his jacket, bundling it up and tucking it under Hannibal’s back, trying to staunch the bleeding. He held Hannibal’s hand and pressed his other hand on the gunshot wound in the front, his eyes never moving from Hannibal’s face. 

*** 

**Johns Hopkins University Hospital **

**September 19**

Hannibal regained consciousness slowly, listening to the rhythmic beeps of the various medical equipment attached to him. He opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling of the room and monitored his own body, trying to clear the fog of sedation, as he raised his hand to gently touch the bandages wrapped around his midsection. He could feel the pain medicine released into his system, keeping the sharpness at bay. He would review his medical chart later to determine what the surgical team did and the post-surgical treatments provided. 

He inhaled deeply and smiled when he caught Will’s familiar scent among the usual scents of a hospital room. He turned his head to see Will sitting in the uncomfortable looking armchair, his eyes bruised and his face swollen and bandaged over his cheek. 

“Will,” he called, his voice hoarse and throat dry. “Will.” 

Will opened his eyes and jerked awake, sitting up to look at Hannibal. “Hannibal. You’re okay. You’re at Johns Hopkins. It’s September 19th. You had surgery to close up the bullet wound and there was an infection, so you’re on a protocol of antibiotics and painkillers. It was a clean shot, very little internal damage, just minor tears, but you’ll have a full recovery.” 

“Come here, Will,” he said, holding out his hand. “You’re injured.” 

Will grabbed his hand, moving closer. He winced, trying not to smile. “It’s a hairline fracture but it doesn’t require any surgery. It looks worse than it actually is.” 

“Why aren’t you in a hospital bed of your own? Have you met with specialists? If you would allow, I can recommend a few of my colleagues who specialize in maxillofacial surgery.” 

“I’m okay,” he said, chuckling softly. “I checked myself out this morning. They wouldn’t let me in to see you but once Jack explained what happened, I’m allowed to stay with you for as long as I like.” He saw the doubt on Hannibal’s face so he squeezed Hannibal’s hand. “I really am okay.” 

“I’ll see to it later after I examine your x-rays,” Hannibal said, frowning slightly. 

Will reached up to stroke Hannibal’s face, brushing his limp ash blond hair off his face. He had never seen Hannibal look so disheveled. He kind of hoped that Hannibal would look like this more often — approachable, touchable, soft. 

“You came for me,” Hannibal said, marveling at him. “You killed him for me.” 

Will nodded, pressing a kiss to Hannibal’s hand. “For what he did to you.” 

“May I have some water, please?” 

“Yes, sorry, yes,” Will said, getting up and walking to the side table to pour fresh water into a plastic cup, putting a straw into the cup. He held it for Hannibal, letting him sip all of the water. “Do you want some more?” 

Hannibal shook his head, letting out a deep breath. The water tasted bland and like plastic, but it was cold and it helped with the abhorrent taste in his mouth. 

“I gave a statement to the FBI,” Will told him, returning to sit close to Hannibal, taking his hand again. “Jack is taking care of everything. Considering that you were injured while doing consulting work for the FBI, they’re just hoping that you don’t sue them for what Gideon did to you.” 

He squeezed Will’s hand and offered a small smile. “I have missed you so much, my darling.” 

Will nodded, his eyes watering. “I don’t want to lose you, Hannibal.” 

“Never.” 

Will moved closer, his voice dropping, staring at Hannibal. “But if you want this to work, the Ripper has to take a long hiatus.” 

“You would dictate terms to me?” Hannibal felt his ire like an icepick. 

“Not terms, Hannibal, a compromise,” he said, soothingly. 

“I saw your true self,” Hannibal said, frowning slightly. “You enjoyed it, when we killed Gideon together.” 

He watched as Will breathed quickly, his blue eyes narrowing. “I did like it, and it scares me how much I liked it — killing someone with you. But we need to put the Ripper aside and work on  **our ** relationship.” 

“What a beautiful and cunning boy you are,” Hannibal said, delightedly. 

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said, blushing slightly at the praise. “You just need to get better and stronger. They’ll release you in a few days. I want to stay with you and take care of you.” 

“Nothing would give me more pleasure, Will.” 

Will gave him a shy look, but a sardonic smile crossed his lips. “I guess this means that we’re conjoined now.” 

“I don’t think I’ll be happier than in this moment. No matter how long we are together, I will always remember this moment with you.” 

*** 

**Will Graham’s House **

**October 19**

There was something wonderfully easy about being domestic with Hannibal. Will sat at his dining room table as he graded student essays, and watched as Hannibal moved gracefully around Will’s much improved kitchen, preparing one of his fancy dinners. Half of the dogs were settled by Will’s feet while the others sat patiently outside the kitchen, watching Hannibal intently, waiting to see if they would receive any treats for being good dogs. Hannibal had insisted that when he was cooking, all dogs would need to stay out of the kitchen. Will trained them to wait; but he couldn’t train them to stop drooling when Hannibal’s food always smelled so delicious. 

A couple of days before Hannibal was released from the hospital, Will had packed his suitcase and moved into Hannibal’s house, bought fresh groceries because he didn’t know what he’d find in Hannibal’s freezer, and for two weeks, he helped Hannibal with his recovery. He had brought the dogs to Hannibal’s fancy house and realized that the house wasn’t set up to host animals. 

_ “I need to use one of the rooms on the first floor as a room for the dogs.”  _

_ “You brought all of your dogs to my home,” Hannibal groused, staring at him from his comfortable position on the bed.  _

_ “Well, I didn’t want to board them for that long and there’s no way that I can drive from your place to work and to my place to check on the dogs and then back here again,” Will groused back, pouting slightly. “Look, they’re well trained and they won’t make a mess. I’ll clean your house if they do.”  _

_ “ _ ** _All_ ** _ of your dogs.”  _

_ Will narrowed his eyes. “I’ll be more than happy to take  _ ** _all _ ** _ of my dogs and go back home and you can hire a part-time nurse if you want to preserve the sanctity of your house, Hannibal.”  _

Hannibal finally ceded the cozy sitting room as the temporary domain of the dogs, wanting Will to stay. The one concession was that Will would carefully roll up the handmade Persian carpets and put them in the guest room. Will hired a neighborhood dog walker to come and care for the dogs while he was teaching, freeing Hannibal from any responsibility. And then Will came home one day to find that all of the dogs were sitting patiently by the wall near the pantry door, watching Hannibal like he was their god. 

_ “I didn’t want them to get underfoot with the stoves and ovens on,” Hannibal said, smiling innocently at him.  _

_ Will stared at his dogs lined up along the wall, puzzled by how Hannibal had gotten them to just sit there. “What did you feed my dogs, Hannibal?”  _

_ Hannibal gave him a small, proud look. “Nothing outside of their usual diet. I simply encouraged them, with a few special treats, that if they waited patiently and sat quietly, they would be rewarded with something hearty.”  _

He was glad to say that Hannibal’s recovery went quickly; they curled up against each other every night, hands and mouths giving pleasure until Hannibal was strong enough for more. By the second week, Will had enjoyed carefully putting Hannibal on his back or on his left side, and fucking him slowly, teasing him ruthlessly, as Hannibal moaned and huffed into his pillow. Will and Hannibal talked about a lot of things during the first few days of his recovery. They talked about the Ripper and about hunting. They talked about the darkness inside of Will that Hannibal desperately wanted to see and touch again. They talked about philosophy. Will read him passages from “The Iliad” while Hannibal lounged in his bed, his eyes focused entirely on Will as he read. They talked about moving in together and possibly buying something much larger so that Will would have enough space for his dogs, his sailboat, and his own home office. Will enjoyed the two weeks with Hannibal, their odd quirks and eccentricities and stubborn bachelor ways merging together as much as two independent men who required solitude could manage. 

Hannibal was big news, having survived the attack by Abel Gideon and helping the FBI take down the crazed murderer. When he was released from the hospital and returned home, Will was unsurprised by the amount of letters, cards, gifts, and flowers that arrived at the house every day for weeks. Will grinned when Hannibal wandered the house in his pajamas and fancy robe and velvet slippers — frowning at the amount of dog hairs clinging to the velvet. When Hannibal felt stronger, he would sit in his splendid living room and receive visitors as if he were a royal — well, he was a Count — and no doubt all of them were surprised to see Will living with him and caring for him. 

_ “Will has been a true comfort.” _

_ “Will saved my life. When he learned that I was one of Dr. Gideon’s psychiatrists, Will found me and saved me.”  _

_ “Will was quite brave.”  _

_ “Will received a commendation for stopping a serial killer.”  _

_ “I’m so happy to have Will back in my life again.”  _

Mrs. Komeda sipped her tea, her dark eyes glittering with pleasure, watching the two of them like a hawk. 

While Will was out of the room, he overheard Mrs. Komeda giggling softly with Hannibal, their heads leaning close together in confidence. 

_ “You know, my dear, when you said that you had some ideas for making amends with Will, I didn’t think nearly losing your life would be one of them.”  _

_ Hannibal chuckled with her. “I would have preferred a different approach, of course, but it was in that moment when we realized that whatever had parted us wasn’t worth losing each other forever. So I can’t regret what happened.” _

_ “Especially since you have Will right where you want him,” she teased, patting his hand. “I can tell that he’s been taking very good care of you.”  _

_ “In more ways than one,” Hannibal said, smiling wickedly at Will, having caught him listening in to their conversation.  _

Will rolled his eyes as Mrs. Komeda giggled again, cooing at Hannibal. 

There was no doubt that the Baltimore grapevine would be buzzing with news. 

The first time Will accompanied Hannibal to the opera, they stepped into the Members Only private lounge and someone began a round of “bravos” when they saw Hannibal, coming up to shake his hand or pat his back. Will thought rich people were weird. 

_ “I can’t believe that Hannibal is still with that man!”  _

_ “I thought you said that Hannibal dumped him!”  _

_ “Komeda said that Will was the one who saved Hannibal’s life, if you can believe it.”  _

_ “Maybe he feels like he owes that man something.”  _

_ “Poor Hannibal, that gold digger is taking advantage of him.”  _

_ “It’s the sex. Look at his ass.”  _

_ “I heard that he moved into Hannibal’s house and he brought in a dozen dogs. Can you imagine the terrible smell!” _

_ “Or the terrible state of Hannibal’s beautiful house!”  _

Will turned to the group of gossiping people and met their eyes, one by one, and smiled triumphantly at them as Hannibal took his hand, kissing the top of it, looking at Will even more besotted and adoring than before. It was clear that Hannibal wasn’t going to hide his regard for Will, and with Mrs. Komeda’s social blessing, Will found himself being closed in by the protective ranks of Baltimore’s high society. 

Hannibal was terribly smug about the whole thing. 

“Will, dinner will be served in five minutes. Would you set the table, please?” 

“Sure,” he said, finishing his beer and setting it down on the coaster. Obviously, the coaster was a gift from Hannibal. 

Will moved his files to the other side of the dining room table, clearing off space. He opened the cabinet drawer and pulled out two placements and napkins, setting the table. He petted his dogs and walked into the kitchen to wash his hands and to gather the utensils that Hannibal had polished and cleaned. 

Hannibal had perfectly prepared two large trouts that Will had caught earlier in the day. They sat down across from each other, surrounded by the dogs, tongues lolling out of their mouths as they silently begged Hannibal for their promised treats. 

“Jack asked me to try and convince you to consult on field work,” Hannibal said, spearing a forkful of the fish and tucking it neatly into his mouth. 

Will shook his head. “I won’t go into the field. But Beverly asked me to review some of their cold case files to see if I might discover anything to help them close them.” 

Hannibal smiled, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. “You know Will, it’s not a terrible idea. I’m sure that between the two of us, we could review the files and put our heads together to find the killers.” 

“Oh?” Will said, grinning slightly. “And what would we do once we found the killers?” 

“I agree that the Ripper should take an extended leave of absence, but my pathology is not so inflexible that my  _ modus operandi _ couldn’t change.” 

Will chewed his food and then took a sip of his wine. “You want to start hunting?” 

“I would like for us to hunt together,” he said, eyes twinkling in mischief as he gazed at Will. 

Will got to his feet, keeping his eyes on Hannibal, and then held out his arm to sweep the plates of food off the dining room table, clattering to the floor. He jumped up to sit on the table in front of Hannibal and used his legs to pull Hannibal close for a deep kiss. 

“I’m going to fuck you on the table,” he said, nipping at Hannibal’s bottom lip. 

“But the bed is just five steps to — “ 

“Shut up and get over here.” 

Hannibal rose, wrapping his arms around Will, nosing up his neck to suck on his earlobe. “You’ve made a terrible mess after I worked so hard on our dinner. What’s to be done about that?” 

“We can order in pizza after,” he said, chuckling. Hannibal pushed him down on the surface of the table, a look of predatory desire etched on his handsome face. 

“Stay right there. I’ll get the lube,” Hannibal murmured, kissing Will deeply. 

The dogs feasted on Hannibal’s treats after all. 

*** 

**A Field in Virginia **

**November 4**

Hunting with Will was nothing short of a revelation to Hannibal. His experience as a police officer in New Orleans, his deep knowledge of predators, and his own inner darkness made Will into a primal creature that was fierce and merciless and sinfully delicious to watch. Will’s becoming awakened something in Hannibal, calling to the monster that lived just under his skin, a witness to the sadistic glee that Hannibal felt when he butchered his pigs. 

Will wasn’t one to play with his food and preferred a swift kill, but he saw the monster in Hannibal and presented him with the opportunity to chase their prey. Part of what Hannibal did included his victims seeing the truth of him and knowing that they wouldn’t escape him or their fate at his hands. 

_ “How did you select your victims?” Will asked, sitting up in bed as Hannibal read an article in The Journal of Criminal Psychology.  _

_ “By the caliber of their rudeness.”  _

_ Will snorted, looking up from his tablet. “Are you kidding?”  _

_ “Rudeness is unspeakably ugly to me.”  _

_ “Oh come on, Hannibal, you can’t kill people for being an ass,” he said, the corners of his lips tilting upwards. “If I remember, I was kind of an ass to you.”  _

_ Hannibal looked up from magazine and grinned. “Only in the most charming way.” He hummed and turned to look at Will. “I’m not so insensitive that I can’t tell the difference between a person who has social anxiety and a person who is being outright rude.”  _

_ “Well, people have the right to be an ass and rude. We’re going to have to redefine your selection criteria,” Will said, softly. “I’d like to hunt with you, but I’d rather not kill someone who stepped on your shoe and didn’t bother to say sorry. I’d like to hunt down people who hurt others.”  _

_ “Those who kill without artistry and without purpose,” Hannibal said, taking a deep and soothing breath to calm his beating heart.  _

_ Will gave him a wry grin. “People who are the real pigs of this world.” He licked his lips, tossing his tablet to the end of the bed and turning towards Hannibal, his hand on Hannibal’s chest. “It’s the only way I could ever live with my own darkness. I need to give my monster a real purpose, too.”  _

He knew Will was right behind him as they chased down the man who had kidnapped, tortured, and then killed four women and two men. The killer liked his victims to be young and pretty. He was jealous of youth and beauty, and he wanted to possess something he could never attain on his own. Hannibal thought it was pathetic and he delighted in hunting the killer and letting him run. 

Hannibal knocked the man down and pressed the edge of his knife against the man’s throat, cutting the skin just to see him bleed. It wasn’t a fatal wound, Hannibal was saving that to better savor the moments before death. 

“Why are you doing this!” The man shouted, staring at Hannibal. 

“Because he can,” Will said, walking towards them with a soft smile on his lips. He crouched down and looked him in the eye, seeing nothing but horror and confusion. “Jonathan Harris, we know what you’ve been doing, but you’re small time compared to him. And to be honest, you’ve trespassed in our territory and that is unspeakably rude.” 

Hannibal turned to Will, staring at him with ecstatic devotion. “Oh, Will…” 

“Have fun with him,” Will said, kissing Hannibal on his forehead. “I’ll go get the shovel and the cooler.” 

Will stood up and turned, walking across the field to their car, hidden in the darkness. He could hear the agonized screams of the man under Hannibal’s creative hands. By the time Will returned, he was pretty sure that Jonathan Harris would be unrecognizable. 

“I should like to display him,” Hannibal said, as Will walked towards him carrying the shovel in one hand, the travel cooler over his shoulder. 

“No. No displaying. We talked about this, Hannibal,” Will said, shaking his head. “Collect what you want from him, and then we’re going to bury him deep in the ground where the rest of him will rot and no one will remember that he existed.” 

“But darling, this pig deserves public humiliation and degradation. It would be the perfect symphony of vengeance and justice,” Hannibal protested, dark eyes beseeching. 

“No.” 

Will was pretty sure that Hannibal was pouting...or possibly plotting Will’s death and display. Hannibal would post a sign around Will’s neck:  _ His punishment for not allowing me to be creative with my artistic endeavors.  _

But Will raised his eyebrow and opened the temperature controlled cooler for Hannibal. “Get to work, Hannibal, don’t let the meat spoil.” 

Hannibal stared at him with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, his chin tilted down in displeasure. Will ignored the pouting and took up the shovel, walking around to take a look at the man bleeding out on the ground. Hannibal had enjoyed himself immensely, toying with him. Will saw that he was still alive, his eyes staring widely and gurgling wetly. Of course Hannibal had a snack; he’d cut out the tongue and cheeks. 

“And remember to make your cuts look amateurish,” Will said, over his shoulder to Hannibal. “I’m going to dig by the bushes.” 

“This constant micromanaging of my work is beneath you, Will,” Hannibal said, put out and offended. 

Will laughed, placing the sharp head of the shovel on the ground, his foot over the edge and pushing down to break through the dirt. He found it interesting that the sounds of him digging complemented the sounds of Hannibal cutting into a body. 

**Hannibal Lecter’s House **

Dinner was obscenely elegant and Will had put on his best suit for it. Candlelight on the dining room table, a beautiful arrangement of flowers and bleached animal skulls and peacock feathers, and Hannibal wearing a dark blue-black velvet jacket that looked like liquid midnight against his start white dress shirt. 

“I call this offal fricassee a la Harris, served Cuban style on a bed of white rice and marinated peeled potatoes and onions,” Hannibal said, showing off. 

Will laughed. “You know, I’ve never eaten so much offal my whole life until I met you. Never had a taste of it before, but you turn it into something special.” 

“Then it is my pleasure to feed you, Will. Bon appetit.” 

***** 

**Hannibal Lecter’s Townhouse Apartment**

**8 Avenue Montaigne **

**Paris, France**

**December 17**

Hannibal was right, Will did look ethereal, surrounded by the artwork and tapestries that Hannibal had diligently collected from his ancestral home and put into his Paris apartment. It was one thing to imagine it and quite something else to watch Will walk slowly through the decorated and mirrored hallways, a look of complete befuddlement on his face. 

“Did you seriously pay your decorator to purposefully try to make your apartment look like Versailles?” Will said, cocking his eyebrow at Hannibal. 

“Yes.” 

Will chuckled, turning around in the mirrored hallway and then walking back towards Hannibal. “Okay, Sun God, good lord, this hallway makes me feel like I’m in a funhouse. Is there a clown or mime that’s going to jump out at me from a secret closet?” 

“The second floor is decorated in the Grecian style, but no clowns unfortunately. I do have a statue of Artemis in the master bathroom.” 

Will blinked, lips pursed and eyes squinted. “I can’t tell if you’re telling the truth or if you’re just messing with me.” 

“The second master bathroom has a statue of Hermes if you prefer.” 

“Do you have a hidden pool somewhere with a statue of Poseidon?” 

“You’re mocking me?” 

“Just your taste in interior decorating,” he said, curling his arms around Hannibal’s neck and brushing a kiss on his lips. “Why do you even need 12 rooms? And who actually cleans this place? Do you have servants? Are we going to be woken up every morning by a legion of French maids who will get us dressed and hand feed us breakfast?” 

“If you wish it so,” Hannibal said, teasingly. 

Will rolled his eyes and laughed. “There are two master bedrooms. Are we sleeping in separate quarters?” 

“Never,” he said, narrowing his eyes and grabbing a fistful of Will’s curly hair. He licked Will’s bottom lip before taking his mouth completely. 

“Are you going to give me a proper tour of this place or what?” 

“In just a moment,” Hannibal said, caressing Will’s head with his hand. “Come out to the balcony and look at the view.” 

Will stepped out onto one of the large balconies overlooking Avenue Montaigne, the old fashioned lights along the bridges across the Seine, and in the distance, the Eiffel Tower lit up with green and red lights for the Christmas holidays. He had to admit that the view was pretty gorgeous and Will was excited to explore the city with Hannibal by his side. 

“Welcome to Paris, Will,” Hannibal murmured, wrapping his arms around Will and holding him close. His nose brushed against Will’s ear, a warm kiss to chase away the December cold.

“Maybe we can come back in the spring or early fall,” Will said, leaning back against Hannibal, seeking out his warmth. 

*** 

The plan was to spend the Christmas holidays and New Years in Paris. Hannibal had asked Will to pack lightly because he was looking forward to gifting Will with new clothes from his favorite European clothiers in the city. The first floor of the building was commercial space with stores with fancy brand names that Will didn’t recognize. In just a few days, Will’s side of the closet was filled with all kinds of clothes in luxurious fabrics. Will didn’t know if he would ever be able to wear cheap fabrics again after spending the Parisian winter in cashmeres and wools. 

Will often liked to take walks through the city alone, taking some solitary time for himself and giving Hannibal his own space. Will returned from these city walks with his pockets filled with knick knacks that he found in cozy boutique stores and open street markets. Hannibal displayed them around the house as if they were priceless works of art and Will felt a little buzz of pleasure at seeing them on the mantel or on shelves or on side tables. 

He also kept his eye on the local news, both in French and English. In the mornings, he took a walk to his favorite cafe, ordered an espresso and read the paper. He was following the crime news and a string of murders that looked like a serial killer, even though the news and the police hadn’t put it together yet. 

_ “He killed a third person,” Will said, sitting at the counter as he and Hannibal shared breakfast.  _

_ “Would you like to go on a hunt, Will?”  _

_ He sighed and then shook his head. “I don’t want to right now. Let’s keep our work separate from our vacation. But I feel like I need to do something about this.”  _

_ Hannibal gave him a curious grin. “Such as?”  _

_ Will scratched his chin, thinking he should probably shave. “Maybe an anonymous note to the local law enforcement.”  _

_ “Shall I help writing it?”  _

He returned to the residence and found Hannibal directing a legion of workers who were there to set up the huge Christmas tree, decorating it in an elegant gold and silver motif. Will unwound the cashmere scarf from his neck as he grinned, looking up at Hannibal who was stationed at the top of a tall ladder, putting the finishing touches to the massive tree. 

“Someone’s been busy. It’s very festive in here. I was gone for only two hours.” 

“Hello, my darling, did you have a nice walk?” Hannibal called down to him, smiling warmly. 

Will chuckled, looking around the living room as a dozen workers were moving through the rooms, carrying decorations or cleaning the floors. “Getting really cold out there now.” 

“I received a package with the warmer gloves. They’re lined with the fleece that you prefer.” 

“Thank you,” he said, softly. He wasn’t talking about the gloves. He didn’t know how else to express it to Hannibal; not for the material things that Hannibal gave him, but for something like this, a real Christmas, the kind Will never had. Granted, it was over-the-top but Will was getting used to how Hannibal liked to be surrounded by beautiful things. 

Hannibal caught his tone and looked at him, then carefully made his way down the ladder to place his warm hands on Will’s cold cheeks, kissing him gently. “You’re welcome.” 

*** 

On one of Will’s last outings into the city before Christmas, he found a fancy pet store along the boulevard and he stood outside, chuckling to himself at all of the animal themed items in the window display. Of course he had to go inside, picking up something for each of his dogs. He also found a wall of little hand painted dog ornaments and Will spent a good hour, talking to the enthusiastic college student who wanted to practice his English, and picking ornaments that matched each of his dogs. He showed the shopkeeper pictures of his dogs on his phone and Will was so happy to find that he could have a small replica of his whole pack. Now, convincing Hannibal to let him put the dog ornaments on the gorgeous Christmas tree in the living room would be a whole different issue. 

On his way back, Will stopped in one more store to pick up the custom present that he had ordered as one of Hannibal’s Christmas gifts. The shopkeeper, an elderly man who reminded Will of his father, greeted Will warmly and showed him the finished piece, and Will felt something dip in his stomach, fear and doubt causing it to flutter nervously. 

“ _ Monsieur _ will be pleased with the gift,  _ non _ ?” 

Will smiled, reassuringly. “Yes, he’ll love it...I’m just a bit nervous.” 

The man gave Will a fond look, wrapping it up for him. “He would be foolish to deny you,  _ Monsieur Graham _ .” 

Will blushed, tucking the gift box into his inner coat pocket, safe against his heart. “ _ Merci beaucoup, Monsieur deGlasse. Joyeux Noël _ .”

“ _ Joyeux Noël _ to you,  _ Monsieur Graham _ .” 

*** 

“Will,” Hannibal said, walking towards Will at the balcony doors. “I noticed new additions to the Christmas tree.” 

Will laughed, sipping his coffee. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to see them.” 

“Perhaps I could order a smaller tree for the bedrooms, something that would be informal and more appropriate for the lovely ornaments that you found,” Hannibal said, keeping his voice amiable. 

“We’re not getting a second tree because my dog ornaments don’t go with your aesthetic, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal sighed, leaning his shoulder against the balcony door, smiling at him. “If I didn’t love you as much as I do…I am often tempted to cut your head open to examine your brain.” 

“ _ Hmmmm _ ...that’s a high compliment coming from you,” Will said, cheekily. He reached into his pocket and tossed a small gift wrapped box to Hannibal. “I got you something.” 

He watched as Hannibal examined the small box, a little furrowing growing between his eyebrows. He raised his dark eyes to meet Will’s, an affectionate look on his handsome face. “Another one of your knick knacks found during your city walks?” 

“Well, let’s just say that this one has a little more meaning to it,” Will said, covering his nerves by looking through the windows and taking a large sip of his coffee. 

“ _ Que pourrait-il être _ ?” Hannibal hummed, carefully unwrapping the paper to reveal a small leather box. He opened it and stared at the simple gold band snuggled in the silk cushion. 

“Merry Christmas,” Will said, taking a fortifying breath and turning to meet Hannibal’s eyes. “It should fit. I measured your finger while you were sleeping.” 

“What a sneaky boy you are,” Hannibal murmured, staring at the ring with wide eyes. 

“I know we never really talked about it and it doesn’t have to mean anything more than just a simple piece of jewelry. We’re not bound by the laws of man or God, but to each other. We can think of that as a sign of my devotion and commitment to you,” Will said, giving Hannibal a small smile. “But I’m open to the idea that if you wanted it to be permanent — “ 

“I do.” 

Will blinked in surprise, and then gasped out a laugh in sheer relief. “Shit. I’m so rotten at this.” 

“I think a spring wedding,” Hannibal said, putting the ring on his ring finger and drawing Will close to him, smiling. “A civil ceremony with just one or two witnesses; and a reception for our closest friends at my house. I shall have to call my tailor to let him know to begin our wedding suits; and there’s paperwork to be filed at City Hall; and caterers to prep on my menu design; and invitations to print; and flowers to — “ 

“Okay, okay, Jesus, we’ll get to all that. Later,” Will said, waggling his eyebrows and stepping even closer against Hannibal. “Merry Christmas, Hannibal.” 

  
“ _ Linksmų Kalėdų, mano gražus meilužis _ ,” Hannibal said, kissing the corner of his eye. “My love.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Here be the happy sexytimes and the happily ever after! And murder! LOL!

**FBI Academy **

**Quantico, Virginia**

**January 14 **

Will was trying to catch up on his lesson planning after spending four weeks in Paris with Hannibal. He found that he was reluctant to return to his usual mundane schedule, thinking of what Hannibal was doing in his day-to-day, and alleviated some of his boredom and curiosity by sending Hannibal text messages now and then. He knew that Hannibal wouldn’t be able to reply right away as he was with his patients, but during breaks between appointments and lunch, Hannibal would respond with his own comments and observations. 

_ Will: Winston says hello  _

_ Hannibal: He is a very good boy _

_ Will: Look at this gif of the cutest kitten. Should we get a kitten? _

_ Hannibal: I still find dog hair in my house, Will.  _

_ Will: That’s not a no!!!!!!!!  _

_ Hannibal: No.  _

One time, Will attempted to tease Hannibal with a sexy text, which prompted Hannibal to call during their lunch break, and Will had to lock his office door as Hannibal talked him through a mind melting orgasm. Hannibal chuckled smugly and hung up on him while Will was still trying to catch his breath. 

_ Will: Okay maybe not during work hours _

_ Hannibal: I expect you at my house tonight at 7 PM.  _

_ Will: And if I’m late _

_ Hannibal: You will receive a punishment. _

“Will Graham!” Beverly shrieked as she, Jimmy, and Zeller rushed into Will’s office, slamming the door open with her enthusiasm. Will quickly turned off his phone, tucking it into his shirt pocket as he stared at the three of them. “What is this!” 

The three of them waved the cream colored invitations at him. 

“I told Hannibal not to invite the three of you,” he said, teasingly. 

“Engaged! Wedding!” Beverly walked over to him and punched him in the arm, a wide smile on her face. “God, Graham, you don’t do things by halves, do you?” 

“What our dear Beverly means, Will, is congratulations,” Jimmy said, grinning. “Good work catching that fancy pants doctor.”

“Guess you finally put a ring on it, huh,  _ Countess _ ?” Brian said, smirking. 

“I want all the details,” Beverly said, pushing Jimmy and Brian out of the way. “Did you propose? Did Lecter? Did someone get down on his knees?” 

“I’m sure there was a lot of  _ kneeling _ ,” Brian said, leaning closer to Jimmy. 

Will rolled his eyes. “Come on, guys, it’s not a big deal.” 

“It’s not a big deal? It’s a big freaking deal!” Beverly said, putting her hands on her hips and staring him down. “I get to be Best Woman.” 

“Hannibal and I aren’t going to have a wedding,” he said, grinning. “We’re going to City Hall and then we’re having the reception at his place. That’s what the invites are for. It’s going to be low key — well, as low key as Hannibal can handle. The dogs will be there, too.” 

Beverly glared at him. “Who cares about the dogs, Will! You and Hannibal Lecter are getting married!” 

Will chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, we are.” 

“Married!” She said, excitedly. She bent down and gave him a tight hug, nearly choking him with her arms. “Oh, Will, I’m so happy for you!” 

“We really are, Will,” Jimmy said, giving him a fond look. 

Brian laughed. “Ditto, Graham.” 

“Thanks,” Will said, feeling a little emotional. He didn’t have a lot of friends; Beverly was relentless in wanting to be his friend and she pulled Jimmy and Brian into the mix. Will counted Alana as a friend, though he was sad to say that their awkward kiss from last year did put some distance between them. 

“So are you guys going to honeymoon and do all that traditional stuff?” Brian said, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of Will’s desk, pressing his foot against the edge of his desk. 

Beverly snorted, sitting on top of Will’s desk, smirking. “Of course they are. Hannibal seems like the type to go all out for something like that.” 

“ _ Ohhh _ a whirlwind romance and a wedding of the year,” Jimmy cooed, leaning against Brian. 

Will sighed, knowing that they would just hound him if he didn’t tell them. “Yeah, I just put in extended leave for February and March. Hannibal’s taking me to visit his childhood home in Lithuania. He wants to make sure I’m properly registered as Count Lecter’s consort. His lawyer found a loophole where I get to inherit the title and everything legally, even though Lithuania doesn’t recognize our marriage. But since Hannibal still retains his EU citizenship, the country has to follow ECJ court ruling to acknowledge freedom of movement and residency rights, so yeah, that’s something.” 

“Damn,” Beverly said, giving him a long look. “That’s really something.” 

“After that, we’re going to Florence,” he said, feeling his face flush. “Hannibal’s excited about showing me all of his favorite places.” 

“Maybe you and the fancy doctor will move to Florence,” Jimmy said, his eyes widening. 

Will shrugged, smiling. “I don’t know, Jimmy, we still have to figure out how to live together first.” 

Beverly snickered. “You’re going to move into his big fancy house in Baltimore, don’t lie.” 

“Ohhh! And we get to see it at their reception!” Jimmy said, excitedly patting Beverly’s arm. 

Will stared at them, narrowing his eyes. The three of them were damn good forensic investigators and he wouldn’t put it past them to sneak upstairs to ogle Hannibal’s bedroom and go through his closet. 

“I’m going to have Hannibal hire security to keep you guys out of our bedroom.” 

*** 

**Piazza Della Liberta**

**7th Floor **

**Florence**

**February 25**

Will sipped his red wine, looking out at the city. It was a beautiful view, the Duomo in the forefront and the Florentine hills in the distance. He looked over on Hannibal’s sketch pad to look at his cityscape sketches, smiling at his work. 

“It’s beautiful,” Will said, nodding to Hannibal’s drawing. 

“Thank you. I could draw this scene from memory, but I find that being in the city and seeing all the new changes has made it all the more fulfilling.” Hannibal looked up, almost boyish with his hair loose and soft, his eyes kind. “All the more special because it’s with you.” 

Will reached out and ran the tips of his fingers along Hannibal’s cheek, tilting up his chin to look at the dark pink bruise he had left on Hannibal’s neck that morning. He didn’t consider himself a possessive man, but he found that being with Hannibal made him more comfortable with his darker urges, often leaving behind his marks of ownership on Hannibal’s body. Hannibal was just as greedy; Will still needed to clean and bandage the deep bite mark Hannibal left on his ass. Hannibal grinned whenever Will had to sit down, carefully, letting out a little hiss of discomfort and scowling at the smug look on Hannibal’s face. 

“Don’t forget that we’ll be leaving in a couple of days for the country,” Hannibal said, his lips pursed in a little secret smile. 

“Why did we need to rent a 12-bedroom house in the country?” Will said, sipping more of his fine wine. At the rate that Hannibal fed him wine, Will was going to actually develop a proper palate. 

“The property was available and I think it’s suitable for our needs,” he said, looking up to meet Will’s eyes. “No neighbors for miles, plenty of room for all of our hobbies, and on occasion, if we were to invite new friends for dinner, it’s perfect for entertaining.” 

“Are we planning to do a lot of entertaining the next few weeks? I mean, we’re just there temporarily, where would we find these new friends?” 

Hannibal smiled, looking down at his sketch, putting a few touches here and there. “One must always be prepared.” 

Whatever Hannibal was planning, Will was suspicious, but not enough to warrant a fight over it. He decided to let Hannibal have his secrets and his plans. There was no doubt that he would share it with Will, when he deemed it was the right time. 

“I’m hungry,” he said, watching Hannibal. “Let’s go out for a late lunch and then come home and fuck all night.” 

Will laughed when Hannibal’s hand skittered across the page of the sketch book, leaving behind a long black line. Hannibal lifted his face and gave Will a dark, lustful look. 

“You did that on purpose.” 

“Maybe,” he said, shrugging, and giving a carefree laugh. Will wrapped one hand behind Hannibal’s neck, fingers brushing along the back of his hair, and pulled him closer for a kiss. “Come on, I want food.” 

“I could make us something — “ 

“No. You’ll take like three hours and I’m hungry now,” Will said, playfully. He licked the tip of Hannibal’s nose, watching as Hannibal wrinkled his nose, chuckling lowly. 

“You’re incorrigible.” 

“You love me.” 

Hannibal sighed. “I’ve never denied it.” 

*** 

**Il Palagio **

**Four Seasons Hotel**

**Borgo Pinti, 99 **

**Florence **

It was cold to be out on the garden patio but the restaurant had set up personal heaters for the most daring diners, allowing them to enjoy the view of the lawns and still be warm enough to the late afternoon. The restaurant was turning into one of their favorites, having dined there every few days. The restaurant staff recognized them -- well, they recognized Hannibal’s elegance and wealth -- and always offered them a wonderful experience, much to Hannibal’s delight. 

There were not a lot of people on the garden patio so Will took advantage of their privacy and the waitstaff discretion, pulling his chair closer to Hannibal as they shared their dessert, a rich chocolate confection that made Will’s mouth water. 

“It’s so delicious,” Will said, teasingly. He licked the spoon suggestively, feeling his own cheeks blush from his outrageous behavior. “Sorry, I don’t know why I did that.” 

Hannibal smiled at him, wondrous in his happiness. “You wish to torment me with glimpses of what we’ll do when we return to the apartment.” 

“Maybe,” he said, licking his lips and grinning. 

“Ahhh...Doctor Hannibal Lecter,” the man said, his English quite good. “It is you, is it not, Doctor Lecter?” 

They turned to look up at the handsome older man, dark eyes staring at Hannibal. 

“Yes, I am,” Hannibal said, politely. He cocked his head as he gazed at the man. 

“Do you remember me, Doctor? I’m Chief Inspector Rinaldo Pazzi of the  _ Questura di Firenze. _ ” 

“Of course, Inspector Pazzi, it’s been many years,” Hannibal said, rising to his feet and holding out his hand. Will stood with him, looking at the Inspector quizzically. 

Pazzi took a moment, staring at Hannibal’s outstretched hand for a long moment, and then shook his hand firmly. 

“May I present my husband, Will Graham.” 

Will shook Pazzi’s hand, giving him a polite smile and a nod, picking up on the tension between Hannibal and the Inspector. “Inspector. It’s nice to meet you. Would you like to join us?” 

“I would,  _ grazie _ ,” Pazzi said, taking the seat across from them at their table. Will and Hannibal exchanged looks and sat down, too. “It has been many years...twenty, I think, since the last time we met.” 

Hannibal gave him an amiable smile. “You have a very good memory, Inspector.” 

“Please, it’s Rinaldo, I’m off duty now,” he said, meeting Hannibal’s eyes. “And you are married. How is married life treating you? Well, I hope?” 

“We’re on our honeymoon,” Will said, gaining Pazzi’s attention. He played up the role of a younger man having married up. He could feel the force of Hannibal’s amusement as he grinned winningly at Will. “We’ll be here for about a month. Hannibal has such wonderful memories of Florence.” 

Pazzi looked at Hannibal again. “I have no doubts of that. She is a beautiful city. But even a beautiful city such as ours holds dark memories of the past.” 

“I was just a young man when we first met,” Hannibal said, turning to look at Will. “I recall that there was a strange series of murders in the city.” 

“Murders?” Will said, with the right mixture of shock and curiosity. 

“We called him  _ Il Mostro _ , the Monster of Florence,” Pazzi said, taking a deep breath and nodding heavily. “ _ Il Mostro _ created images that stayed in my mind, even after all these years. I can still see his tableaux. A young couple found slain in the bed of a pick up truck.” 

Will widened his eyes, leaning forward. “His tableaux, Inspector?” 

“A man and a woman murdered, their bodies arranged, garlanded with flowers, and flowers in the woman’s mouth. The man was colored blue and bloated, reaching for her. Zephyrus reaching for his nymph.”

Will wrinkled his brow. Of course, Hannibal wouldn’t display his kills as anything less than a masterpiece painting. “Like a...Botticelli?” 

Pazzi turned his eyes to stare at Will. “Exactly like a Botticelli. His painting  _ Primavera _ still hangs in the Uffizi Gallery, just as it did twenty years ago.”

“I recall that it was quite a disturbing time,” Hannibal said, nodding to Pazzi. “Unfortunately, he was never caught by the  _ Questura _ .” 

Will didn’t roll his eyes but it was a very near thing. Obviously, Pazzi had suspicions that Hannibal was the Monster of Florence and have kept tabs on him. 

“Are you familiar with his work, Mr. Graham?”

“Only through an introductory art class in my undergraduate days,” Will said, chuckling. “Hannibal has promised to take me to the Uffizi Gallery. Now I really want to see this painting. How morbid!” He leaned closer to Pazzi. “But how did you know that it was based on that painting?” 

“Through tireless investigation, of course,” Pazzi said, smiling. “We considered it a triumph, to find the inspiration for  _ Il Mostro’s _ work. I went to the Uffizi and stood near the painting day after day, and most days, I would see a young Lithuanian man as transfixed by the Botticelli as I was. As transfixed as  _ Il Mostro _ must have been.” 

Will turned and gazed at Hannibal, his tone filled with teasing humor. “Was it you, Hannibal?” 

Hannibal chuckled, reaching out to brush his fingers through Will’s curls. “It was true that I had become obsessed with the painting. I shall have to show it to you.” 

“So what happened?” Will said, turning to look expectantly at Pazzi. 

“I’m afraid that I...made a mistake. I had taken Doctor Lecter’s love for the  _ Primavera _ and brought the  _ Questura _ to his home and nearly destroyed it, trying to find evidence.” 

Will stared at Pazzi, leaning away from him, looking at the Inspector with new suspicion in his eyes. “Hannibal, if the Italian police is harassing you after you were cleared  **twenty years ago** , we can report it to the Embassy and talk to our lawyers.” 

Hannibal chuckled, taking Will’s hand and kissing the back of it. “Rest easy, my darling, no such thing will happen while we’re here. The Inspector and the  _ Questura _ apologized and reparations were made. I hold no ill will to the city of Florence. He was merely doing his duty.” 

“My apologies, Mr. Graham,” Pazzi said, amiably. “It was a very long time ago. I merely saw Doctor Lecter and wanted to say hello.” 

“I appreciate your visit,” Hannibal said, smiling as Pazzi got to his feet. 

“Florence is like a small town. I’m sure we’ll see each other again,” Pazzi said, nodding his head to Hannibal and then to Will. “Have a lovely day.” 

“You as well,” Hannibal said, nodding his head. 

Will pressed his lips together, glaring at Pazzi, and then turned away to look at Hannibal. “The nerve of that man to -- to talk to you like this! I’m going to report him to his supervisor!” 

He deliberately kept his voice loud as Hannibal chuckled, shushing him. They waited until Pazzi was completely out of view and Will turned and gave Hannibal a look, raising his eyebrow. 

“Really? _ Il Mostro _ ?” 

Hannibal chuckled, giving Will an innocent smile. “It was not my choosing, Will.” 

“Is he going to be a problem for us?” 

Will watched as Hannibal considered it, looking thoughtful, a small smile on his face. 

“There is a possibility that Inspector Pazzi may be a minor irritant,” Hannibal said, gazing at Will. “He made quite a fool of himself, especially when I brought in the family lawyers.” 

“Family lawyers?” 

“My mother, Simonetta, was a Countess through marriage to my father. But she was born into the once royal House of Sforza in Milan. I’m not well acquainted with my mother’s family, though I do own a number of properties in Milan through her. However, as I am her heir and a blood relative to the Sforza Family, our lawyers were quick to defend me from the  _ Questura _ . They were publicly embarrassed and Inspector Pazzi nearly lost his career before it could begin.” 

Will laughed, shaking his head. “Jesus, Hannibal...every day, there’s always something new to learn about you, isn’t there? What other skeletons do you have in your closets?” 

“You have the rest of our lives to explore each one.” 

“So why didn’t we go to Milan if that’s where your mother’s family is from?” 

“I prefer the elegance of Florence over the crassness of Milan,” Hannibal said, snottily. “Perhaps, in the past, Milan was once a flourishing metropolis, but it lacks the art and history of Florence. I fell in love with the city when I lived here. And the city inspired me in all of my artistic creations.” 

Will snorted, grinning when he saw Hannibal give him a side eye, his lips pursed in a moue of disagreeableness. Will didn’t even bother apologizing. 

“Let’s go visit the  _ Primavera _ . I want to see the painting that inspired  _ Il Mostro _ .” 

***** 

Will and Hannibal finished packing up their belongings in the apartment, bringing down their bags to their rental Audi sedan in the private garage. 

“Oh, we need to put the bags in the back seat,” Will said, smiling over his shoulder at Hannibal. 

Hannibal frowned. “Do we not have enough room in the trunk?” 

“Well, the trunk is currently occupied with my gift,” Will said, using his key to unlock the trunk, opening the trunk hood and showing Hannibal his gift. 

Inspector Rinaldo Pazzi was tied up, duct tape covering his eyes and mouth, and sedated. Will smiled at the look of astonishment on Hannibal’s handsome face. 

“I thought we could take him to the house,” Will said, cocking his head and gazing at Hannibal. “You said that the rental had a large kitchen, perfect for butchering your own meat.” 

“Will!” Hannibal whispered, his hands reaching for Will’s face and cupping his cheeks, bringing him closer to press his forehead against Will’s. “Will.” 

“Can’t let the meat go bad. We have a long drive ahead of us,” he said, kissing Hannibal’s lips quickly and shutting the trunk hood with a firm thump. 

“We won’t let any part of him go to waste,” Hannibal promised, wrapping his arms around Will’s back and pulling him against him. Will could feel Hannibal’s hard cock pressing against his hip. “Perhaps we could go upstairs to the apartment and -- “ 

“No,” Will said, squirming out of Hannibal’s hold, laughing softly. “Get in the car, Hannibal. You can wait until we get to the house.” 

***** 

**La Val di Sieve Villa **

**San Lorenzo**

**Outside Florence **

The country house was gorgeous, as expected, with rows of cypress trees and vines. The valley below crossed the wild beauty of the Tuscan-Romagna Apennines and hills, with a view of the Sieve River, perfect for fishing, according to the rental pamphlets. 

It was situated on top of a hill and the property had two buildings on it. The main house had 12-bedrooms and the second house, which was smaller, was more rustic and cozy. Will kind of wanted to stay in the smaller house, but he knew that Hannibal preferred the main house. 

The country house -- or villa, as Hannibal called it -- overlooked green hills and was quiet and very private. 

Will moaned, grabbing onto Hannibal’s hair, as he sucked on the head of his cock. Will blinked up at the ceiling of their master bedroom, it was beautifully hand painted with a rich green pattern with oak beams criss-crossing the ceiling wall. He could feel that he was close and he needed the distraction, Hannibal’s mouth was just too good at getting him to come quick. 

“Jesus, Hannibal,” he moaned, hissing air through his gritted teeth. “Gonna come!” 

Hannibal hummed around his mouthful and Will trembled, feeling the echo of the vibrations throughout his entire cock, into his tight balls, and into his lower belly. He looked down to see Hannibal’s dark eyes watching him, his tongue doing that thing that made Will’s thighs shiver -- licking just below the head while sucking around it was a talent only Hannibal seemed to have. 

“Stop, stop, stop,” Will whispered, pulling Hannibal by the hair with both of his hands, trying to free his cock from Hannibal’s mouth. 

“What is it, my darling?” 

“Gonna come too soon.” 

Hannibal’s rosy lips quirked in amusement. “Isn’t that the point?” 

“I want to come with you fucking me into the mattress,” Will growled, narrowing his eyes. 

Hannibal smirked and before Will knew it, he found himself rolled onto his belly, his pants and boxers dragged down to his ankles, hindered by his socks and shoes, and Hannibal’s hot tongue licking into his hole. 

Will wailed into the bedding, gripping the covers with both hands. “Fuck! Fuck Hannibal!” 

Hannibal chuckled against Will’s plump bottom, a huff of warm air flowing over his sensitized rim, making him clench around nothing. Will felt needy and possessed, wiggling against the bed to pull one of his legs free from his pants and pulling it up so that he could brace his knee against the firm bed. 

“Come on, Hannibal,” he whined, looking over his shoulder as Hannibal got to his feet, his hand sliding into the inner pocket of his jacket, long fingers pulling out a small package of lube. Will smiled, licking his lips. “You came prepared.” 

“I am always prepared when it comes to you,” Hannibal said, unzipping his own pants. He reached into the parted zipper and pulled out his hard cock and balls, stroking it as he stared down at Will, still fully dressed with the exception of his pants. 

He could still see the faded marks of his teeth on Will’s plump and pale ass. 

“Quit looking at it and fuck it, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal slapped the pale cheek, the sharp sound loud in the room, and Will hissed in surprise and pleasure. 

“Such a rude little mouth,” he admonished, smirking down at Will. 

Will snorted, laughing into the bedding. He turned his head and sighed deeply. “Oh, Hannibal, please make love to me.” 

He turned his eye to gauge Hannibal’s reaction, and then laughed again at the look on Hannibal’s face. 

“I find, to my immense surprise, that I am more partial to your foul language, my darling.” 

“Good, now shut it and come and fuck me hard like you own me.” 

Hannibal snapped the tip off the package of lube, squeezing it out into one palm and then stroked his hard cock with it, letting the coolness of the gel calm him somewhat. He wanted to take his time with Will, to fuck him slowly until Will was begging, and deny them both the rush of pleasure until Hannibal felt that they each earned it. 

“You are a delicious morsel,” Hannibal murmured, bracing his knee against the bed, his hand holding his cock steady as he pressed the tip against Will’s twitching hole. He pushed in hard, forcing his way in through the tight muscles, until he was in as deep as he possibly could be. 

Will cried out from surprise and the burn of the stretch, tensing around Hannibal’s thickness, and tried to buck Hannibal off of him. 

“You fucker!” 

“I am only doing what you requested of me -- to fuck you like I owned you,” Hannibal said, kissing Will’s ear and gently sucking on the little lobe. 

Will let out a laugh and exhaled slowly, his body relaxing underneath Hannibal, the muscles of his ass clenching and throbbing around his length. He loved it when the proper Hannibal Lecter cursed, especially in bed. Hannibal couldn’t describe the intensity of taking Will like this, the dark monster inside of him gleefully enjoying Will’s struggle, and Hannibal held Will’s shoulders in place as he thrust hard into Will’s tight heat without any warning. 

They both moaned and Will reached down with one hand, digging his blunt nails into Hannibal’s thigh in retaliation. The pain only sharpened the pleasure for Hannibal and he moved his hands to Will’s hips, rising up to his knees, and finding a natural handhold on Will’s pelvis as he began to slowly pull his cock out, taking his time. He groaned at the feel of Will’s muscles tightening around the head, and Hannibal gritted his teeth as he pushed back into Will just as slowly. He angled Will’s hips slightly and pulled out again, in tiny increments, and then shoved his cock into him hard, knowing that he would stroke against Will’s prostate. 

Will screeched, clinging to the bedding with his hands and teeth. 

Hannibal frowned, not enjoying the way that Will was trying to hide from him. He pulled his cock out of Will and turned him on his back, both of their legs getting tangled in Will’s pants. Hannibal reached down and nearly tore the fabric as he jerked it off from Will’s shoe. He grabbed Will by under the knees and pushed his legs back, opening him up. Will stared up at him with startled blue-black eyes, his mouth parted and panting harshly. Hannibal growled, grabbing his cock again and pushing right back inside of Will. 

He smiled, watching as Will’s face twisted in pain and pleasure, his head thrown back to expose the long muscles of his neck as he gritted his teeth, the moan trapped in his throat. Hannibal thought Will was still holding back and he covered Will’s body, grabbing fistfuls of Will’s dark curly hair, tugging until Will opened his eyes, staring up at him. 

“I should like to hear you,” Hannibal said, fucking into him hard again. 

Will gasped, a cry escaping from his parted lips, and Hannibal smiled, feeling dark and primal, as he fucked into Will again, and then again, and again, until Will couldn’t do anything but moan and whimper from being used. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Hannibal husked, panting wetly as he fucked and fucked his delicious husband. “To be owned and used?” 

_ “Fuck!”  _

_ “Yes!”  _

_ “Hannibal! Oh god...please!”  _

Will tried to close his eyes and turn his head to the side, but Hannibal wouldn’t give him any quarter, and he tightened his hold on Will’s hair, forcing him to meet Hannibal’s eyes. 

_ “Aš tavęs noriu. Aš taip taves noriu. Mano meilė. Aš noriu tave sunaikinti iš visos širdies. Tu esi mano, mano brangioji. Mano mylėti ir mano mylėti bei mano šūdas. Visada mano.” _

“Hannibal! Yes, yes, don’t stop!” 

Will wrapped his legs around Hannibal’s hips, pulling him closer, lifting his own hips higher so that Hannibal’s cock stroked against his prostate. His cock was pressed between them, the friction from the fabric catching on the sensitive skin of his wet cock head, but Will didn’t care. It was good, so fucking good. Will grabbed at the back of Hannibal’s jacket, no doubt it was going to be ruined with Will’s careless hold, the seams pulled to their limits. 

“I can come like this! Don’t fucking stop! I can come -- oh Jesus fucking -- “ 

Hannibal watched in awe as Will took what he wanted; coming from just his cock. Will’s strong legs tightened around Hannibal, squeezing him until Hannibal couldn’t do anything except to follow Will into pleasure, his cock spurting deep inside Will’s heat. He kissed Will’s mouth, tongues slipping around each other, teeth clacking and biting into soft lips. Hannibal shuddered the last of his pleasure, pressing his face against Will’s neck and shouting out his need. 

Will chuckled, trembling under Hannibal’s warm weight. “Ohmygod...Hannibal…that was…” 

“ _ Mmmmmm _ …” was the only thing Hannibal was capable of saying, too caught up in his own bliss. 

“So does this place have good water pressure?” 

Hannibal sighed and raised his head to look at Will. “You are incorrigible.” 

“Yeah, you love me.” 

Yes, Hannibal truly did. 

*** 

“Do you like the Tuscan countryside, Will?” 

He basked in the coldness, bundled up in a number of thick, soft fleece blankets. Hannibal smiled, seeing him so at peace. “It’s cold as hell, but it is beautiful here.” 

“I do have one more gift for you,” Hannibal said, pulling Will against him as they sat on the patio bench, overlooking the gorgeous valley below. Will moaned at the addition of Hannibal’s body heat and wiggled closer against him, wrapping the blanket around them both. 

“Just show me the country house before you buy it, okay?” 

“Well then, I’m very glad you like it here.” 

Will turned his head to look up at him, a wry grin on his face. “Are you kidding me?” 

“This is my wedding gift to you.” 

Will laughed, pressing his forehead against Hannibal’s shoulder. “Shit, Hannibal, I didn’t get you anything.” 

“Pazzi was a wonderful gift.” 

Will shook his head. “He was just dinner. This is a country house!” 

“Villa,” he corrected as Will snorted. “You gave me a gift greater than anything you could buy. You see me...and you let me see you.” 

Will snickered, kissing Hannibal’s neck. “You’re so cheesy and romantic.” 

“Are you happy, Will?” 

_ “Yes.” _

Because it was the truth and they had agreed to only speak the truth to each other. 

THE END. 

****** 

Author’s Note: If anyone was curious about the property locations I wrote about, here are the links. Look at these gorgeous residences! At one point, after looking at the properties and costs, I actually said to myself, “Oh, this one is only $1.6 million US, with some financing and a little cash down pay, that could be affordable.” FACEPALM! This is what happens when you try to put a price tag on the stuff that Hannibal could possibly own. LOL! 

Apartment in Paris:  [ https://www.sothebysrealty.com/eng/sales/detail/180-l-768-cphvb4/avenue-montaigne-luxury-apartment-paris-il-75008 ](https://www.sothebysrealty.com/eng/sales/detail/180-l-768-cphvb4/avenue-montaigne-luxury-apartment-paris-il-75008)

Apartment in Florence:  [ https://www.sothebysrealty.com/eng/sales/detail/180-l-2945-fxgzsw/piazza-della-liberta-firenze-fi ](https://www.sothebysrealty.com/eng/sales/detail/180-l-2945-fxgzsw/piazza-della-liberta-firenze-fi)

Country house outside Florence:  [ https://www.sothebysrealty.com/eng/sales/detail/180-l-2945-p8y7v4/localita-san-cresci-borgo-san-lorenzo-fi ](https://www.sothebysrealty.com/eng/sales/detail/180-l-2945-p8y7v4/localita-san-cresci-borgo-san-lorenzo-fi)


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